Sarah Collins Rudolph was in the bathroom with her sister Addie Mae Collins during Sunday School when a bomb exploded in the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama. The 1963 bombing killed her sister Addie Mae Collins, Denise McNair, Cynthia Wesley and Carole Robertson and still has lingering effects for Rudolph. She lost her right eye and was hospitalized for two months after the bombing forcing her to miss her sister's funeral. Rudolph nearly 50 years later still has glass from the bombing in her left eye and had surgery in July to relieve pressure and save her sight. (Frank Couch/al.com)

BIRMINGHAM, Alabama -- For Sarah Collins Rudolph, Sept. 15, 1963, might as well have been last year.

The bombing of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church killed Rudolph's older sister, Addie Mae Collins, along with Denise McNair, Carole Robertson and Cynthia Wesley. It also placed lifelong scars on the Forestdale woman that have never been erased.

"I'm in Birmingham right now, but they don't even know me," Rudolph said.

'Scars From The Past'

On her living room wall hangs a sketch of five girls, an artist's interpretation which includes Rudolph as a child standing next to her slain sister.

Rudolph stands in contradiction to anyone who calls the violence of Birmingham's civil rights era part of a stale black and white past. She was severely injured, losing her right eye in the blast. She was one of 22 people injured in the church bombing.

Sixteenth Street Baptist Church. (Birmingham News File.)

A photo among a stack on her living room table shows the young girl bandaged and lying in a hospital bed, where she remained for two months. And there were more surgeries to come, including prosthetics and work to preserve her remaining eye.

"I was ashamed because of the way I looked," Rudolph recalled following her reconstructive surgeries. "I always thought the children were laughing behind my back."

Whether they actually were or not didn't matter, she said. The young girl had no counseling or outlet to deal with the bombing. With one sister was dead, her mother was overwhelmed with grief and the daily struggles of caring for a family on a low income. Her mother was a maid and her father worked in a cafe.

"My mom, she was the poorest one in that church," Rudolph said.

Rudolph said her family received no more than around $6,000 at the time to help them, but the effects of bombing lasted much longer than the money did.

While victims of violence in recent years have some access to victim's relief funds, no such compensation existed for the Collins family in 1963, nor does it today. Her mother said help was coming to the family with one murdered daughter and another permanently injured.

"She always said that, but she died just waiting on somebody to compensate her," Rudolph said. "She sat there, waited and waited, and she died waiting."

'Last Resort'

Collins recently appeared before Birmingham Mayor William Bell and the City Council seeking redress for years of ongoing medical care related to her injuries, which includes recent surgery to preserve her remaining eye, weakened now by glaucoma.

Firefighters sift through rubble and search for bodies in the basement of Sixteenth Street Baptist Church after a bomb killed four girls on Sunday, September 15, 1963. A stretcher waits to carry away any more victims found. (Tom Self/Birmingham News file.)

She has medical insurance through her husband, George, but said she has out-of-pocket expenses for medications and treatments.

"His insurance was going up and up," she said.

Rudolph, who works for a cleaning service, called her appearance at City Hall a last resort.

"I had been going through a lot of changes trying to find help," she said, adding she's been told she is ineligible for relief funds because of the age of the crime. "Everybody I go to, the door is shut."

Rudolph said it is proper to ask current city leaders for some help to help bring relief from the damage done in part because of actions from former leaders. She said official city action back then fostered a climate that brewed lawlessness and racial violence.

"Bull Connor was fighting us. The police were doing what Bull Connor told them to do. If all that hadn't come about, that church wouldn't have been bombed," she said. "It looks like it shouldn't take 50 years for something that happened in 1963."

Rudolph and another sister, Junie Collins Williams, have begun sharing their story at colleges and with groups. With her parents caring for Sarah after the bombing, Junie was the one to identify her sister Addie Mae's body.

Bell told Rudolph that the city didn't have a program for compensation nor is it financially liable. But the mayor said there was value in her story that should be shared.

Bell then said he would include Rudolph in the 2013 activities, saying her story should be part of the commemoration.

"We're going to have a lot of events to take place next year. What I would like for you to do is give me an opportunity to come up with something that we can have you as a part of our program and find some way to compensate you for doing that," Bell said. "You do have a story to tell and there are a lot of young people who do need to hear that story, from your perspective."

The Collins sisters in recent years have traveled the nation sharing their story at colleges and before other groups. But it is here in Birmingham where Rudolph said she remains a stranger.

"It's very important to have the historical record correct. I believe to paraphrase Dr. King, there will be those who profit from the movement who otherwise did not pay the dues of the movement," Council President Roderick Royal said in an interview. "There any number of people who should be celebrated in Birmingham. Mr. Rudolph is just one of those."

Birmingham civil rights historian Horace Huntley said the 2013 city's observances could provide the opportunity to highlight figures, such as Rudolph, who have been largely overlooked.

"Next year could change that," he said. "She as well as others deserve more attention than they've received. This may be a beginning to give her proper recognition."

Huntley directed an oral history project for the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute which included interviews with more than 500 people.

"They were the backbone of the struggle, but most of them were nameless and faceless before we interviewed them," he said. "So there are a lot of folk who feel they have been neglected and that is one of the reasons the institute came into being."

Huntley called development of the historical record a dynamic process which over time adds more stories and figures.

"This history is such a vital piece and we will always learn different aspect of what took place in the 1960s, and there's no way for the historian to cover everything and everyone, so we will consistently get more information about people who were actively involved and we simply did not have that information," Huntley said. "History is ongoing, not static and over time you will continue to learn."

Rudolph's family left Sixteenth Street following the bombing, no longer able to sit there comfortably.

"After the bombing I didn't feel right going to Sixteenth Street Church anymore," she recalled. "I was so nervous and scared."

She's been back before for ceremonies, though, and will return again in 2013.

"I want to come to the church to be there for Addie and be there because she was our sister and we need to represent her," she said.